Boxes
by BarbaraLee
Summary: Tag to "The Iron Box" At the end of "The Iron Box" Jarrod rode in with the judge and doctor to rescue his brothers. Heath had been tortured physically, Nick mentally. There was no more evidence of wrongdoing than the family's word. What happened between the final scene of the plot and the epilogue?
1. Out of the Iron Box

**Out of the Iron Box**

**Scene One**

The first thing to hit him was the heat. It rushed from behind the iron door like a fiery stampede escaping Hell. As Heath tumbled from the sweatbox into his arms Nick was assaulted by the smell: sweat, fever and death. "Heath … Heath!" Nick murmured as he held his brother. There was no response, no movement, no sign of life. He was too late. Nick pulled Heath to him and cradled him gently as he choked back tears. "Heath."

Suddenly Jarrod was beside them. "Heath." Jarrod took Heath from Nick as one might take a baby from his mother's arms. As Heath tried in vain to lift his head toward Jarrod's voice Nick saw, with palpable relief, that Heath, though terribly weak, was alive. He rose quickly as the doctor took his place at Heath's side. "Heath, everything's going to be all right," Jarrod continued, "I've brought a doctor." Nick stepped aside to give the doctor room to work and found himself standing alongside Judge Bentley.

"Who's responsible for this," the Judge asked.

"That's the man there, Judge," Nick pointed to Rizley. "That is if you can call him a man." The calm in his own voice surprised Nick. He watched for a minute as Rizley staggered and swayed to his feet. He was brushing dirt from his hat even as he was taken by the marshals. "He should be locked up here, right now," Nick stated.

"The marshals are taking him to the town jail," Judge Bentley replied.

"That is his right," Nick scoffed.

"This case will be properly investigated and adjudicated."

Nick stared after Rizley. "Investigated? Never mind that we were falsely arrested and used for slave labor, never mind that he tried to kill us," he returned his gaze to the judge. The ice in voice was belied by the fire in his eyes. "What about what he did to my brother?"

The judge continued, "With your statement we'll charge everyone involved. In court –"

Heath moaned softly behind them, drawing Nick's attention. Heath's shirt had been removed; he was cradled firmly in Jarrod's right arm. There were now three basins of water around them. From one Jarrod gently wiped his younger brother down with the cool water while from another the doctor carefully cleaned the raw, oozing wounds left by the whip. Heath grunted and parted his lips. The doctor removed a clean cloth from a third basin and wrung a few drops into his patient's open mouth. Heath's ravaged, swollen throat closed on the cool water. His body convulsed before his head dropped against Jarrod's chest as he again lost consciousness.

Nick knelt beside Jarrod and ran his hand through Heath's hair. "Doc," he implored, "can't we get him up out of the dirt? Rizley's got living quarters in there behind the office. I'll just bet there's a nice big tub." He looked down at Heath, "Double or nothing there's a real comfortable bed, too."

The doctor shook his head in response even as he continued his ministration. "Right now the cool night air is the best thing for him. Under different circumstances we would want to bring his body temperature down as quickly as possible but I don't want to immerse that leg or his back. There's too big a risk of infection or nervous shock."

"'Nervous shock,'" Nick repeated. "What's that?"

"Hold him well," the doctor said to Jarrod. He pulled an amber bottle from his bag. "Hope for his sake that he stays out." He began gingerly disinfecting the lash wounds. Heath did not move. The doctor continued more firmly and rapidly even as he responded to Nick.

"A condition we saw during the war: minor injuries killing men as if they'd been severely wounded. After the war we realized it happened with all kinds of injuries, even when there was no bleeding. Most doctors don't think much of it, but I've seen enough to know better. It's not just that we've got to cool him down. I've got to keep his breathing and his heart steady, try to prevent infection, most important we've got to get water into him."

"Then why –"

"You saw what happened," the doctor finally looked at Nick. "Just a few drops and he nearly choked on it! Before you ask, in his state salt can make it worse as much as better. Time, Mr. Barkley." The doctor returned his full attention to Heath. "Go find that bed. Open the windows, make the room as cool as possible. Make sure there are plenty of blankets on hand, too; he needs to be cooled down but he mustn't be allowed to catch a chill. I'll do everything I can for him, then we wait."

**Scene Two**

"You can't be serious," Nick muttered. Jarrod watched him closely. Nick was calm – too calm.

"It's the law," Jarrod replied.

Nick looked toward the bedroom. "The law's done enough."

Jarrod, Nick and the doctor had brought Heath to the bedroom where there was, in fact, a large, comfortable bed. They had laid Heath on his stomach to protect his back; his burned leg, treated and dressed, was splinted to protect it as well. Jarrod had gone into the small kitchen directly behind the office and fixed himself and Nick something to eat. The doctor left detailed instructions before finally being escorted out by a marshal. It was hours before Nick would leave Heath's side. Heath was still unconscious when Nick finally joined Jarrod in the kitchen.

Now Nick was seated at the table while Jarrod placed a cup of coffee and a bowl of soup before him. "That wasn't the law," said Jarrod. "That was small men with a taste of power abusing the law. I don't like this any better than you do but if we have any hope of convictions we have to proceed carefully."

"Conviction? That's fine if Heath recovers. If he doesn't I'll -"

Jarrod slammed a cabinet door, cutting Nick off. While the front door led from the office to the main compound there was a back door from the kitchen to a small, secluded strip between the warden's quarters and the fence. "Come with me," Jarrod opened the door, Nick just stared at him. They remained that way for a moment, then Nick rose, took the coffee and stepped passed Jarrod into the dark. Jarrod stepped away from building and looked around for prying ears. He finally said, "The marshals will transfer you and Heath into town first thing in the morning."

Jarrod was relieved to see the familiar flash of temper in Nick's eyes but what he heard sounded more like panic. "Is that safe? The last place I want to be is here but if Heath —"

"I spoke with the doctor," Jarrod reassured him. "He'll be back in the morning with the marshals; he'll watch out for Heath." He sighed. "You can't stay here. Heath can't stay here. Even with the marshals running things now we're lucky Heath is in that bed tonight. There are still charges pending against you; legally you're both still prisoners. They certainly couldn't leave two prisoners alone in the warden's office."

"You're no prisoner," Nick commented.

"No, I'm just their attorney, not to mention their brother, and if I didn't have to prepare your case I still wouldn't be allowed to stay here."

"To hell with the case!"

Jarrod shook his head. "Heath won't be recuperating in that fancy bed if he's here. If he's lucky he'll be on a cot in the infirmary, more likely a bunk in the barracks. Even if they want to there won't be a thing the marshals could do about that. Once we get him there Heath will be better off in town.

"I'll leave at sun-up. I'll arrange your bail and rooms at the hotel; you'll go directly there, I'll see to it. Then I'll head out to see that rancher, MacGowan, convince him to drop the charges."

"MacGowan," Nick's jaw clenched.

Nick remained uncharacteristically quiet. "What about MacGowan," Jarrod prodded.

"MacGowan caused this mess."

"I know it seems that way but I'm sure once he realizes he made a mistake –"

"MacGowan is as responsible for what happened to Heath as if he'd burned and whipped him and locked him in that damn box himself."

"What are you saying?"

"There was no mistake. MacGowan set us up." Nick looked into Jarrod's face. "He did this to us, to Heath."

Jarrod searched his Nick's eyes. What he found sent a chill up his spine. "I'll see him in the morning, I'll work it out."

"No." Nick's gaze went through his brother. "No deals, Jarrod. Heath and I will have our day in court. We will be cleared, then MacGowan, Barnes and Rizley will pay." Their eyes locked. "And if Heath dies, so will they."


	2. Into the Fire

**Into the Fire**

**Scene One**

The stars were still visible when Jarrod looked in on Heath. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully but had not moved since being positioned on the bed the night before. Jarrod waited a moment, watching his brother until Heath moved ever so slightly. As the eldest Barkley crept out of the room Nick grunted and moved restlessly in the bedside chair where he had finally dozed off.

The gray was receding into the western sky when Jarrod was met at the sheriff's office by the judge, the doctor and three marshals. He paid his brothers' bail then went to the hotel while the doctor and two of the marshals headed for the prison.

Jarrod was pleasantly surprised to find the clerk behind the desk. "I already have three more rooms reserved for Barkley."

"For Barkley? You're sure?"

"Jarrod, Nicholas and Heath," the clerk checked his book to confirm.

Jarrod signed the register and asked the clerk to hold the key until his return. "My brothers will be here later this morning. One of them is ill but there's a doctor overseeing him so there won't be any trouble." He left with a smile. _Perhaps the judge_, he thought, _after all, they had arranged for the bail to be paid this morning, maybe he'd thought to arrange this, too. _If the rest of his day went as smoothly as the morning the Barkley boys would be free men by lunch.

The sun was shining brightly in the east when he arrived at the MacGowan ranch. As he rode up to the main house a large, affable looking fellow stepped off the porch. Jarrod dismounted and the man approached him. "Howdy friend," he said.

"Mr. MacGowan?" Jarrod extended his hand.

"That'd be me," the man replied with a grin and embraced Jarrod's hand with his own.

"How do you do? My name is Jarrod Barkley." The grin wavered as the handshake abruptly ended. "I represent -"

"I know who you represent, Mr. Barkley."

"Word travels fast," Jarrod watched him intently.

"Word is your clients were locked up for rustling."

"They were imprisoned without being found guilty of a crime."

"Yet," MacGowan smirked.

"They are innocent."

"Well now, Mr. Barkley," MacGowan tipped his hat back on his head in an effort to appear casual, "of course you have to say that, they're your clients. Brothers, too, as I understand it. You probably even believe it, but they were caught red-handed with my steer."

"A steer they bought and paid for, Mr. MacGowan."

"Then you'll be able to prove that at the trial, won't you." Recognizing the invitation to leave, Jarrod mounted his horse.

"I'll see you in court."

_Why would MacGowan dig in his heels_, Jarrod's mind raced as he rode back to town. He'd been dreading having to tell Nick that the real chances of convicting Rizley or Barnes were slim, MacGowan even more so. Ending Rizley and Barnes' careers was not justice but there was no evidence they'd done anything criminal. To prove that meant proving they knew Nick and Heath were innocent when they arrested and incarcerated them. As for MacGowan there was no evidence he'd done anything at all, but the longer this business dragged on the better the chance of the investigation revealing something, especially with the Barkleys in town. Their presence focused attention on everyone connected with the case. If MacGowan simply acknowledged even the likelihood of an honest mistake and dropped the charges the Barkelys would have been on their way as soon as Heath was able to travel. _What is MacGowan up to_, Jarrod wondered.

**Scene Two**

Back at the hotel the clerk's smile vanished as Jarrod approached the desk. "Mr. Barkley," he retrieved the room key but did not hand it over, "you told me there wouldn't be any trouble."

"That's right."

"You said a brother was ill; you didn't tell me they're both convicts. I can't have convicts in my place."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Jarrod smiled politely as he took his key from the clerk's hand. "Neither of my brothers has been convicted of anything."

"But the marshals –"

"A mere formality," Jarrod assured him.

The clerk shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Barkley. The others can stay but –"

"Others?" Before the clerk could respond, a familiar voice called Jarrod's name from the staircase. "Mother," he met her at the foot of the stairs. "'Three _more_ rooms for Barkley'" he recalled with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

Victoria took Jarrod's offered arm. "My family is here."

They entered the dining room arm in arm. "Have you eaten?" Jarrod held her chair.

"Silas packed a breakfast basket, but it was a long ride." She smiled.

The only other patrons in the dining room were an elderly couple just finishing their meal and the marshal now running the sheriff's office sipping coffee while he waited for his prisoners' lunch. Though nearly lunchtime, mother and son placed their orders for breakfast and made small talk until the food arrived. Once the waitress left them alone Jarrod asked, "How much do you know about what happened?"

"I know Nick and Heath were wrongfully arrested and held at the prison without due process," Victoria replied. "And I know Heath was tortured."

Jarrod's hand dropped to the table, the coffee he held sloshed over the sides of the cup. He barely felt the heat on his hand. The waitress took a step toward them but he stopped her with a weak smile and shake of his head while Victoria tended his hand with her napkin. He looked into her eyes. In them he saw only patience and understanding.

"Jarrod," she was still holding his hand. "You saved him. You saved them both."

Jarrod stared at her hand on his. Like her, it was small and elegant and deceptively strong. As he stared down it seemed to engulf his as it had when he was a child. She would hold him then, as she held his hand now, until he was ready to speak his mind. "Tortured." The word was heavy and bitter in his mouth. "I was seeking writs and citing statutes while my brother was being tortured." He finally looked up at her. "I should have taken them out of there right away!"

"How?" The question surprised him. "How would you have taken them out?"

"I could have tried something. Anything!" Jarrod swallowed hard against the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "Mother, Heath was already sick when I found them. His leg hadn't been tended, he'd been whipped. If I'd done more, if I'd acted sooner he never would have been in that box."

"You found them in the prison, didn't you?" Victoria asked rhetorically. "So you were in an enclosed compound, surrounded by armed guards. What could you have done? Draw your gun? You'd have been killed, Nick would still be imprisoned and Heath would probably have died 'in that box'."

They sat for a moment, Victoria still holding her son's hand as he considered her words. "I still could have tried something more immediate. I knew the shape Heath was in but I just followed the law."

"And got them out."

"So I'm a good lawyer. What does that say about me as a brother?"

"You kept your wits about you. You returned your brothers' freedom and got Heath the care he needs."

"But -"

"No. You saw what needed to be done and you did it. It's a hard word, 'torture'. You didn't see it that way because your family needed you not to. It takes a strong man to put his family's needs so far ahead of his own. You feel it now because they're safe now. Hurt for them, Jarrod, worry about them, but don't ever doubt you did right by them."

**Scene Three**

"I'm going to the sheriff's office. I want to see MacGowan's complaint and the official report on the arrest." They'd finished their meal and, knowing they were in good hands, Jarrod was eager to get to work preparing his brothers' defense. He kissed Victoria's cheek and turned for the front door.

"You can't do that!" Another familiar voice on the stairs. Audra this time, hurrying after the clerk as he scurried down.

"I can and I am. I can refuse service to anyone I see fit, and they ain't fit."

"But –" Audra's face lit up when she spotted her brother on the landing below. "Jarrod!" Audra nearly flew into Jarrod's arms as the clerk returned to his position behind the desk. "He's throwing Nick and Heath out. He said if we don't take them out of here we can all get out!"

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"Yes, I did," the clerk replied snidely. "I have a right to refuse service to anyone and I refuse rustlers. I don't care how much business their family brings in."

"What makes you say they're rustlers?" Jarrod smiled, as did his mother and sister standing quietly behind him.

"That's what the marshals was about this morning, wa'n't it? I should've refused 'em then."

"Why didn't you?"

"Marshals and Doc Everett barreling through here, their mother upstairs waitin' on 'em. I'm sorry one's sick but it was a mistake to give those rooms and I aim to fix it. Take 'em outta here now or I'll toss the lot of you!"

"You're evicting us on what grounds," Jarrod asked innocently.

"Grounds," the clerk sputtered. "On the grounds that this is my place and I don't have to give no rooms to no rustlers!"

"My brothers aren't 'rustlers'."

Jarrod's cool demeanor infuriated the innkeeper all the more. As he grew more flustered it was all Victoria could do to conceal her amusement. Audra made no such effort.

"That's not what Mr. MacGowan says. They was at the farm, wasn't they?"

"From which they have been released."

"They came in with marshals. They're still under arrest, ain't they," he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Arrest is not conviction."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that my brothers are innocent until _proven_ guilty in a court of law. It also means that they are entitled to full protection under the law, including but not limited to State Code Chapter 7, paragraph 12, subsection C." Jarrod's smile deepened at the confused look the innkeeper gave him. "Quote: 'Any proprietor, clerk or employee of a hotel or inn which refuses lodgings when such lodgings are available is guilty of a misdemeanor, punishable by fine or imprisonment or both.' Obviously those rooms are available, and since this is the only hotel in town the judge must be staying here so we can adjudicate this case right away." The quizzical look was replaced by an angry glare. Jarrod's smile vanished but his tone remained soft and steady. "If you are fined it will be per count, and as you've threatened us all that will be five times. If you're sentenced to imprisonment then when you get to the farm you will have the satisfaction of knowing you were legally tried and properly sentenced under the law."

When he received no response Jarrod tipped his hat politely, turned to his mother and sister, an arm around each waist, and escorted them away from the desk. Once out of earshot of the still furious hotelier he turned to Audra. "How is Heath?"

"The same. He seems to be sleeping, but he doesn't move at all. And I'm worried about Nick. It took all morning to convince him to take a bath. He won't eat and he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks."

"I'll have a talk with him," said Jarrod reassuringly as he moved toward the stairs.

"You will do no such thing," Victoria placed herself in his path. "Go to the sheriff's office, do what you need to do there. I can handle things here." He opened his mouth to object but she stopped him before he could utter a word. "We're a family, Jarrod. We all have our roles to play and we must all play them if we're going to get Nick and Heath through this. There's nothing you can do for them upstairs, there's a lot to be done on their case. You go do what needs to be done there, let his mother take care of Nick." She caressed his cheek, smiled and in a single move turned and swept up the stairs.

Audra kissed the same cheek. "We'll take good care of them, I promise." She turned as gracefully as had their mother and followed her up the stairs.


End file.
